


Blood ‘n’ Guts

by Creed Cascade (creedcascade)



Series: Blood ‘n’ Guts [1]
Category: The Boys (TV 2019)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Episode Related, M/M, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:27:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24673834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creedcascade/pseuds/Creed%20Cascade
Summary: There were no boundaries between Hughie and Butcher. Not anymore. Maybe there never were any, but there sure as hell wasn’t anymore. Butcher barrelled into Hughie’s clusterfuck of a life like... like what?
Relationships: Billy Butcher/Hughie Campbell
Series: Blood ‘n’ Guts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1784977
Comments: 7
Kudos: 248





	Blood ‘n’ Guts

There were no boundaries between Hughie and Butcher. Not anymore. Maybe there never were any, but there sure as hell wasn’t anymore. Butcher barrelled into Hughie’s clusterfuck of a life like... like what? 

How did you describe fucking Billy Butcher? He was...

...a foul-mouthed, cocky bastard with an agenda?

...a crass liar with a strange sense of ethics?

...a bully with a righteous vendetta?

...a cursing anti-hero setting the world ablaze?

Butcher was... Butcher. 

Hughie used to say he liked the Seven because that’s what you were supposed to say, but secretly Hughie also followed the darker supes. The ones not associated with Vought International. 

Whatever he was, Billy Butcher was the reason Hughie was here. One of the reasons he had done THIS...

A finger snapped in front of his face brought Hughie out of his zone out. 

“Ah ah ah,” Butcher said, snapping his fingers once more right in front of Hughie’s nose. “None of that now, mate.”

“Huh?” Hughie shook his head and blinked. “Wha-“

“You’re going into shock,” Butcher said. “Snap outta it ‘n’ stay with me. That’s an order.”

“I just-“

“Fuckin’ blood ‘n’ guts,” Butcher growled low and wiped some sticky part of Translucent off of Hughie’s face. His thumb lingered too long and Butcher held Hughie’s gaze. “Fuckin’ supe blood ‘n’ guts won’t come out of your clothes. We’ll have to burn the lot.”

“I know,” Hughie whispered hoarsely. “It’s not the first time.”

Hughie’s breathing was too quick and he choked. He thought supe blood might have smelt different, but it was too much like Robin’s. He could taste the iron in his mouth. 

“It’s not the same,” Butcher said, anticipating Hughie’s thought pattern. “You need to put it behind you ‘n’ move onto the next battle.”

“I still have blood on my hands,” Hughie argued with more than a hint of panic to his tone and held up his bloody hands for Butcher to see. The gore was even under his fingernails.

“Not your blood,” Butcher said. “Or mine ‘n’ Frenchie’s, either. That’s the important part. Lived another day.”

“But-“

“It’s different,” Butcher insisted and gripped one of Hughie’s hands, brushing his fingertips over Hughie’s knuckles. “Jus’ a supe. The first time is always the hardest.”

With his free hand, Butcher licked his thumb and slowly wiped away some more blood from Hughie’s cheek and ran it over Hughie’s bottom lip. Butcher’s gaze was possessive and dark. He let go of Hughie’s hand and Butcher’s hand settled on Hughie’s hip, pulling him closer. Pulling him so close that Butcher’s knee worked between Hughie’s thighs. Butcher made a pleased sound at what he felt.

“You’re a good lad. Brave lad,” Butcher whispered and patted Hughie’s cheek. “You did good. Made me proud.”

Butcher’s opinion and praise shouldn’t matter, but it did. The ache hurt a little less. Hughie blinked, squeezing his eyes shut tight before he opened them again. He felt Butcher’s hand move from his cheek to settle onto the back of Hughie’s neck, squeezing firmly - a settling, possessive grasp. Hughie shifted against Butcher’s thigh... it was the adrenaline. It had to be the adrenaline. 

Frenchie came into the room and and saw them. He spat out in frustration, slamming down a bloody mop. “Salaud. Now?”

“Yeah, now. Fuck off, Frenchie,” Butcher hissed at him.

“Va te faire foutre!” Frenchie said. “Ta Gueule. Now is not the time, or the place. It’s too dangerous.”

Frenchie made a sound that was more exasperated and annoyed rather than disgusted. He left the room muttering French under his breath.

“Keep it together for just a bit longer,” Butcher instructed Hughie and then let go, stepping back and free of Hughie’s personal space. He chucked Hughie under the chin. “For me. Yeah?”

Hughie nodded and shuddered at the loss of Butcher in his personal space. His arms wrapped tight around his torso.

“Don’t tell ‘im, but Frenchie’s right. Not now, or here. Now, onto other more practical things. Normally, I carry a spare change of clothes you could use. You’d swim in my shirt, but it would do in a pinch,” Butcher said conversationally, as if the room wasn’t splattered with blood and guts... as if Hughie wasn’t breathing heavy for another reason. “You’ll just hafta wear some of the ol’ chef garb around here instead. You can wear my stuff after the next time.”

“Next time?” Hughie croaked. 

“There’s always a next time.” Butcher grinned and winked at Hughie. “Now, go on ‘n’ scrub that asshole off of you while Frenchie and me deal with this mess.”

Hughie didn’t move. 

“Go on,” Butcher said in a firm, but gentle tone. 

Hughie turned this time and went to the bathroom on autopilot. He looked at his blood and guts splattered reflection in the grimy mirror. Who in the hell was he? What had he done? There was no going back now.

This had been for Robin... hadn’t it? He did it for Robin. To avenge her, but it hadn’t been Translucent who killed Robin. That was A-Train. It hadn’t been Robin that Hughie was thinking about when he pushed that detonator in a panic. It had been Butcher. Hughie had thought about Billy Butcher in that fucking moment... 

...about protecting Butcher... 

...about disappointing Butcher if Translucent got away...

...about pleasing Butcher. 

The fucker had a gravitational pull. It had pulled Frenchie back in, now Hughie was in Butcher’s orbit, too. Hughie wasn’t sure if there was any escape now... or if he even wanted to escape. 

“I’m fucked,” Hughie muttered and turned on the tap. Murky water gurgled out and he splashed some onto his face. “So fucked.” 

Hughie glanced up into the grungy mirror and there was just enough of a reflection to see Butcher watching him through the open door. The motherfucker heard him and winked again with a smirk. 

“Later,” Butcher promised and scooped some brain matter off the floor with the shovel. 

Hughie kicked the door shut. 

He was so fucked. 

END.


End file.
